


Stitches

by npop



Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22661698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/npop/pseuds/npop
Summary: Inked upon Skylor's back is a painful reminder of where she comes from. Who she comes from.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Stitches

It can't be removed. Skylor would know, she's been to nearly every surgeon in Ninjago, hell - even a few old hermits with years of the dark arts under their belts. Arguing with the finest specialists to remove the loathsome stain of ink that is permanently seethed onto her back. It’s the least she could do with the heaps of money her father had left her behind. Even in death, he still leaves scars upon her. An endless torment lives with her and will continue to do so, as long as that  _ thing _ pollutes, stains her body. Sealed with potent dark magic (Clouse’s doing, of course) and a trusty needle. A painful reminder of her past, where she comes from. 

_ Who  _ she comes from.   
  


She still can recall that fateful day that pointed needle sunk into her flesh, like cattle being branded. It felt like hours had gone by as one of the insignificant member’s of her father’s cult poked and prodded at her back, painting vivid lines against her unmarked skin. No - the beginning of lifelong scars were being formed at that moment, not a work of art. Nothing about her father’s serpentine cult was beautiful, despite the fond memories she occasionally shared with him.

_ Occasionally _ . More like rarely.

_ ‘As if I had a choice,’  _ Skylor thinks bitterly as she steps out of the shower, warm droplets of water running down her neck as she wraps her thick fiery curls in a soft towel. 

Examining her back, the vivid violet ink still shines violently, as it were still fresh. The intricate details of the scales of the Anacondrai, the bright red eyes that seem to blink back at her eerily. It was one of those tattoos, so incredibly realistic that it looked as if it would slither out of her skin and out into the world had it not been constricted to her body. It could be considered a masterpiece, even admirable if it weren’t for the circumstances that led to it being stitched upon her flesh.

A sharp, abrupt knock at the bathroom door snaps her back to reality.

“Skylor? Are you almost done? I know you like your privacy and all.” Nya, her girlfriend calls out, her voice trailing off at the last sentence.

“Give me a sec’.” Skylor’s voice rings out, in an uncharacteristically high pitched tone, like a wounded child. 

Though, deep down inside, Skylor knew it would take more than a few seconds to pull herself together. 


End file.
